Until The End
by BlueNeutrino
Summary: No matter what else they did, unless Dean said yes, they would always end up here. It was destiny. Their attempts to close Hell's gates were doomed from the start. Now Hell's walls have crumbled, Lucifer's free, and the whole world is falling into ruin. Will Cas and Dean be able to pull each other through? End!verse with a gradual focus on Destiel.
1. Ground Zero

_**Until The End**_

**A/N: Here we go again, another new story, but since the show really seems to be heading towards the End!verse at the moment, I wanted to write something like this and get Dean and Cas on good terms with each other again, even if it's in horrible circumstances. Set sometime after season eight, assuming Sam does manage to close the Gates of Hell. Will get more Destiel-heavy later on.  
**

**Updated A/N 16/05/13: Well, in light of the events of the S8 finale, the plot for this has become somewhat obsolete. That said, I do still think that what I intend for the later chapters will fit with the circumstances portrayed in "The End", regardless of the specific events that led up to it. I am now slightly regretting posting this so soon before the finale, as I ought to have anticipated I could write something that would contradict it, and if I'd waited it would have given new fuel for formulating and developing a canon-compliant plot over the summer hiatus. So, it may be that I will completely rewrite and possibly repost these first few chapters separately based on a scenario leading on from the finale, and not contradicting it. However, as Zachariah said, I guess, whatever details I change, they will always end up here. I still intend for the Destiel plot later on to be exactly the same, and that is what I want my main focus of this story to be.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I'm just borrowing the characters to have a bit of fun.**

_**Chapter One - Ground Zero  
**_

This couldn't be happening. That was the thought running through Dean's mind as he watched the events unfolding before him, his horror growing even as he was still half hoping this was just another nightmare. It was something like this that had haunted him, causing him to wake sweating in the middle of the night as he was plagued by nightmares he doubted he would ever truly be free from. Even though they'd succeeded in closing the Gates of Hell, there'd always been that doubt - that _fear _- nagging at the back of his mind that it wouldn't be enough. That nothing would ever be enough. No matter what they did, no matter what enemies they conquered or what obstacles they overcame, there would always be one more waiting round the corner.

Or, an old one rising up again to take them from behind.

A fierce rumbling sound filled the air, punctuated by a harsh cracking noise as Dean and Sam watched the pit opening before them. The ground trembled, and the brothers found themselves having to scramble away as the earth beneath them shook and dropped into a slope declining towards the growing crevasse. Sam reached solid ground first, and grabbed hold of his brother's jacket to stop him falling as the fractured concrete gave way beneath him. The floor crumbled away into the gaping pit just as Sam pulled Dean onto the ledge that remained, but they now found themselves cornered up against the bunker's wall with a gaping void in front of them.

An intense burst of heat blasted out from the aperture to meet them. Looking down, they both could see the reddish light at the bottom, and the distant sounds of shrieks and howls were drifting up from the depths.

Dean stared down at it in horror, then back up at the figure on the opposite edge of the abyss. "What did you do?!"

The black haired girl smirked back, her pretty features twisted by the pure evil in her expression. "_I _didn't do anything," she taunted back. "This was all _your _doing. You slammed the Gates of Hell shut. Didn't anyone warn you it would be like shutting off the relief valve on a nuclear reactor? Of course the cracks were going to start to show sooner or later."

His worst fears confirmed, Dean stared down again, as he and Sam looked into the bowels of Hell.

Opposite them, the witch laughed gleefully. "Hell can't contain all the evil in this world. You slam the gates, the walls will rupture eventually. And now that's happened, I guess I've got you two to thank for getting me front row tickets to the main event. This is gonna be so awesome."

Dean looked back up at her in disbelief. "Are you fucking psycho? You _want _to unleash hordes of demons on the world?"

She just shrugged. "Honey, I don't really care. I just wanna be able to practise black magic without knowing Hell's waiting for me, and now, having legions of demons on the loose sounds like it'll be pretty fun."

Dean glared at her. "You know, to say you're human, you are one evil bitch."

She rolled her eyes at him, but then Sam said apprehensively, "Wait, what did you mean by 'main event'?"

"You'll see," she teased, a sinister smile playing on her lips.

Sam and Dean barely had chance to exchange worried glances before an earsplitting roar filled the air, and a gigantic figure made of smoke and flame and light emerged from the chasm. Its sudden appearance sent a shockwave through the air, and the brothers were lifted off their feet and slammed against the wall before falling to the narrow strip of ground that remained.

Sam tried to pick himself up, momentarily stunned by the shock of the impact, but as he tried to look at the figure that had emerged, he found it hurt his eyes. The light behind the smoke was blinding, but Sam thought he could make out the vague shape of wings as he took squinting glances at it.

Then, a deep voice penetrated the droning noise filling the air. "Hello, Sammy! Did you miss me?"

At the sound, Sam felt a chill go through him right to the core. "No..." he muttered, not wanting to believe it, but then he heard the witch, Kal, shouting out manically again.

"Looks like the Cage got broken. That's what you get for trying to fuck around with Hell!"

Pure terror gripped Sam as he stared into the flames. Through the smoke, the figure behind it was becoming clearer, and Sam began to distinguish the shadowy features of a face he knew all too well.

Sam stared into the fire, and Lucifer stared back.


	2. All Fall Down

**A/N: I've named Kal's after the Finnish goddess of death, Kalma, just as a point of trivia. Originally, I wasn't planning on adding any original characters to this story and just working with the existing ones, but I needed a catalyst to get Hell to break open and provide an antagonist to Sam and Dean. Since the finale aired, I wish I'd used Abaddon, but since I jumped the gun and wrote this too early, I've ended up using an insane witch who likes the idea of unleashing Hell on Earth, and she may have a larger role to play later on.  
**

**_Chapter Two - All Fall Down_**

As soon as Dean heard the voice, he knew what it meant. Feeling almost sick with dread, he looked over to where the twisting amalgamation of shadows and fire was closing in on Sam, solidifying into a more definite shape. If it weren't for the smoke, Dean was sure the sight of the Devil's true form would have blinded him, but he knew it could still do much worse.

Even though it was a strain on his eyes to keep staring at the figure, Dean didn't even look to see if that psycho bitch Kal was hanging round to watch the show, like she'd said. He tried to move closer to Sam and grab hold of him to drag him away, but the heat emanating from the form of the fallen angel felt like lava sliding across his skin. _Wasn't Lucifer supposed to burn cold? _That hardly mattered now.

"Sam!" he choked out, attempting to yell, but the lining of his throat seemed to be coated with ash. Blasts of hot air and debris were pummeling into him, pushing him away, and he knew Sam must be feeling it even worse.

The heat, however, wasn't the worst of what Sam was feeling. The younger Winchester stared up into the face of the creature that had tormented him for over a century in Hell, knowing he was completely trapped. _Is this what it all comes to? _he wondered. _Stopping the Apocalypse...going through the trials, for this? _The irony of it felt like a knife in the gut. Always, it seemed, that whenever he tried to stop the forces of Hell, he ended up playing right into their hands. First with breaking the final seal, and now with breaking down the walls of Hell. Why had Metatron never said? No-one they'd spoken to had ever thought that closing Hell's gates could backfire, except for a manipulative, insane witch who seemed to know more about the whole thing than she ought to. Maybe it was just that he couldn't avoid destiny after all. Perhaps he was always meant to be the one who brought the might of Hell raining down on Earth, even as he tried to prevent it.

The bitter sense of guilt hurt more than the flames licking at his skin.

"Let's do this thing properly, Sammy," Lucifer continued. "The party's a little late getting started, but I say we get this Apocalypse on the road."

Sam knew he had nowhere to run, but he was going to be defiant until his last breath. "You can't. Not unless I let you."

The flickering, twisted face leered at him. "You've already said yes once, Sam. No take backs."

And the next thing Sam knew was the blistering heat giving way to an impossibly freezing cold.

Dean cried out as he saw the flames engulf his brother's body, reaching out a futile hand towards him but helpless to do anything. Sam screamed too, but just for a moment, as the being of light shrouded by the smoke forced its way inside him. Then he fell silent.

_No, this isn't happening, _was still cycling through Dean's mind. He couldn't have lost his brother to Lucifer. He couldn't. Not again. Not like this. But if this was a nightmare, he wasn't waking up.

The gigantic form of the angel had vanished, but more shapes were emerging from the chasm now, beings of smoke streaming up into the air, accompanied by more ash clouds and the sounds of screeching and roaring that signified demons escaping from Hell. Dean was forced to notice it, but he only glanced briefly before looking back at the still figure of Sam. The smoke had grown so thick that he could barely see, but he could tell his brother wasn't moving. What had happened? _Please don't let it be what I think it is. Please don't let him be possessed.  
_

Dean began to crawl forward, the fragile ground beneath him feeling like hot coals, but he was barely paying attention to that. What was he supposed to do now? Assuming Sam was even alive and still Sam, there was no way out. On one side of them was a gaping Hell pit, and on the other was the solid concrete of the bunker wall, which was only coming down when the rest of the ground cracked and gave way. Which Dean feared it would, and soon.

At last reaching his brother, Dean reached out a hand to touch his shoulder. Sam felt shockingly cold compared to the near furnace that was engulfing them. That couldn't be good. "Sam?" Dean croaked out desperately, scared of what would happen even if Sam _did _respond, but there was no movement. Barely a second later, however, a fresh blast of hot air and ash erupted from the chasm, knocking Dean away again and leaving him coughing and gasping for breath.

Blinking as he strained to see through the blackened and polluted air, Dean could make out the shape of a hand reaching up above the edge of the abyss and grasping for a hold on the uneven ground. And then, slowly, an unmistakably human form crawled out after it.

It didn't make sense to Dean at first. As he stared at it in confusion, he couldn't figure out how a human figure had made its way to the surface, when everything else down there seemed to be escaping only as part of the smoke and fire. But then as it gradually drew closer to him, he thought he understood. The face looking at him was one he recognised, but even though his eyes were stinging and it was difficult to see, he could tell how much it had changed. The skin was blistered and burnt, scorched black by the fires raging below. The blue eyes that had fixed on him were wild and furious, and Dean almost recoiled under the intensity of the stare. "Adam?"

As he said the name, it caused the man to pause. He glared at Dean for a moment, and then spat out his response. "Adam? Do you think Adam could have ever crawled out of there if it weren't for me?"

The words were full of anger that seemed to be directed at Dean, who swallowed nervously. "Michael, then, I'm guessing?"

"Yes, it's me," the archangel snarled at him. "The righteous angel who you and your abomination of a brother sent to Hell!"

He was looking down at Dean with pure fury in his eyes, and Dean found himself wishing he had somewhere to run to. There was nowhere, however, as Michael suddenly advanced forward, grabbing Dean by the collar and slamming him up against the concrete behind him. Dean quickly stole another glance at Sam, but it had just become apparent that Lucifer wasn't the only jailbreaker they had to worry about. If the Devil had busted out of the Cage, his playmate had too, and Michael had reason to be pissed off with both Winchesters. Dean found himself panicking as he realised he didn't even know how to deal with just Lucifer, let alone the archangel as well.

"Well, you're out now…" Dean began to attempt to reason desperately, but he was cut off by Michael's fist suddenly connecting with the side of his face. Stars erupted across his field of vision and he tasted blood in his mouth.

"You were supposed to be my vessel," the angel continued, emphasising that with another punch. "My sword! The weapon I was meant to use to fight Lucifer, but no. Instead, a pathetic human like you thought you could overrule destiny and lock me in the Cage. Well, that would never have lasted, Dean. Now I'm out, and I don't need you for anything!"

Dean braced himself for another punch, but then the angel faltered, and his balled fist flexed and fell to his side as his face contorted in a look of pain. A moment later he looked up at Dean again, and a noticeable change had come over him. "Why did you leave me down there, Dean?" He sounded as pained as he did angry, and Dean realised he wasn't talking to Michael anymore.

"Adam, I'm sorry…"

"You sent someone down there to get Sam!" Adam cut him off. "Managed to drag him out, but you forgot about me. You just left me there, and slammed the door shut. Have you any idea what it's like to be down there that long? _Hundreds _of years locked in a cage with the Devil himself! You can't even imagine it."

Dean honestly didn't know what to say. He felt bad about what had happened to Adam, but he had genuinely thought there was no way to get him out. "Adam…" he began again, but his half-brother raised his hand.

"Sorry won't cut it, Dean. You're gonna pay." Then his fist connected again.

Dean felt his head spinning. Pure fear was coursing through every inch of his body – fear for Sam, fear for himself, and fear for _everything _- but as he forced himself to drag everything back into focus, he noticed the change that had come over Adam again. Michael seemed to be struggling to keep a hold on who was dominant in the vessel. "You have no role to play in this Apocalypse anymore, Dean," the angel snarled at him. "You're just a troublemaker, and you're going to be punished for all you've done."

The next blow connected with his gut, and Dean doubled over gasping for air, which was already in short supply due to all the smoke. Through clouded eyes he looked up at the manic face of his half-brother, and thought that Hell really had left both Adam and Michael unhinged.

The archangel began to reach out for him then, palm open, and Dean wondered if it was going to be smiting or snapping his neck. Either way, he didn't think he was physically capable of fighting. Even though his instincts were screaming at him that he had to, he just didn't think there was anything he could possibly do by now to save either himself of Sam.

Michael's hand touched his forehead and Dean closed his eyes, wondering if he was about to fall right back down into Hell or if that even meant everything since Hell seemed to have just burst its banks anyway. But then, whatever pain he'd been expecting didn't come. Instead, a scream sounded in front of him, and Dean opened his eyes again to see Michael crying out, intense white light bursting from him eyes. Its brightness intensified so quickly that Dean found himself having to shield his own eyes and turned away, but as the scream faded, he looked back in time to see the body crumple before him.

Then, from behind it, he looked up to see Sam.

Except of course it wasn't Sam anymore.

"The Cage really took its toll on him," Dean heard Sam's voice say, watching as Sam's hand was raised in front of him to show the blood coating it. It seemed that he had managed to physically punch through Michael's back to grasp his grace, and apparently crush it or tear it out.

Dean looked up into his brother's eyes, a sickening feeling washing over him as he remembered the last time he had looked there only to see Lucifer staring back.

"Me, on the other hand…" the Devil continued as he stared down at Dean, "When I got sent to Hell, I made it my domain; became ruler of everything down there. Michael, it seems, couldn't hack it. The Cage made him weak, especially with that vessel clinging onto him looking for protection. I wasn't expecting him to last long when we got out, but I'm still quite surprised by how easy that was."

The Devil was smirking, clearly thrilled by his newfound freedom and easy victory, but terrified though he was, Dean still gave him a defiant glare. "You get out of my brother, you son of a bitch."

Lucifer tutted. "Do you really think I'd do that unless you asked nicely, Dean?" he said as he stepped up beside Adam's corpse, nudging it with his foot to push it back over the edge into the abyss. Dean swallowed hard, realising that left no obstacles between him and Lucifer, and a space less than two metres wide for him to back away. "Actually, I wouldn't have done it however nicely you asked," Lucifer continued, advancing on him. "You see, you and your brother really caused a lot of problems for me, delaying the Apocalypse and all. Now Sammy I'm quite fond of, so I think I can forgive him, but you? Well, somebody's got to pay for this mess, and it may as well be you, Dean."

Lucifer took a final step closer and then closed a hand round Dean's throat, lifting him off the floor and pushing him back against the wall. Dean gasped for air, putting up a hand to claw at the fingers that had closed around his neck, but it was futile. "Sam," he choked out, hoping his brother could still hear him. "Sammy…"

The angel rolled his eyes. "Please, Dean, that won't work again. Sammy can't save you this time." As if to prove his point, Lucifer suddenly pulled Dean away from the wall and spun round to dangle him over the edge of the abyss, still holding him by his neck. Dean continued to gasp and choke, feeling his vision blurring, but knowing that even if the crushing grip on his windpipe relented now, he would only fall straight into the inferno raging below. A sense of utter despair washed over him. There were tears in his eyes, and not just from the aggravation of the smoke.

Lucifer looked thoughtful for a moment. "Now, Dean, I'm just wondering if I should tear you to pieces myself, or drop you down there to let them have their way with you." His eyes flickered downwards to the pit below. "There's quite a lot of them to come out, and if they encounter a Winchester on their way up…" He then gave a chuckle. "Well, let's just say I wouldn't like to be you."

Dean wasn't really listening anymore. _Just drop me, _he found himself thinking. He was past caring. He'd lost Sam, and even if he somehow made it up to Heaven, then he still would never see his brother again. Then there was Cas, who he'd lost less than an hour earlier when Kal had first flipped her shit and the ruptures in the ground had started forming. Cas had been the first to get swallowed up. Now what did he have left to live for?

Lucifer seemed to give it a moment's more consideration, then pulled Dean's face closer to his as he spoke. Dean found himself being forced to look into his brother's eyes as the Devil compelled that brother to kill him. "Well, as fun as it would be to torture you myself, I think I've had my fill of all that kind of thing with Sam. Now that I'm out, I've got better things to be doing." He then pushed Dean out to arm's length again. "Say hi to Alastair for me. Or, you know, anyone you _haven't _killed."

And then, for the second time in his life, Dean found himself falling...

falling...

falling...

into Hell.


	3. Raise and Call

_**Chapter Three – Raise and Call**_

Vaguely, Dean wondered how long this would take. How long would it actually be before he hit the bottom? Or would he just burn to ash before he reached it? That felt like the way this was going. Each passing second caused the temperature to soar, and Dean could feel his skin beginning to scorch and blister. Soot hung thickly in the air, leaving his throat raw, and the muscles in his neck still ached. Maybe suffocation was one more option he could consider.

Dean closed his eyes, waiting to see how it would end, but just as the air grew so hot he thought he might actually catch fire, he felt a change around him. Something seemed to envelop him, shielding him from the heat. The flutter of hope he felt at the sensation was mostly overpowered by the surprise, but it was enough. What felt like an arm wrapped around his chest and gripped his shoulder, while another arm circled round his waist. Then he was no longer falling, but being lifted, the air cooling and clearing as he was raised higher. Whatever precisely was going on was all just a blur, but he felt himself begin to breathe easier as the physical pain eased, and he thought he heard the fluttering of feathers around him.

Then, however long later – seconds, hours, he wasn't sure – he collapsed onto what felt like damp grass, blissfully cool beneath his fingers, and somebody else slumped down beside him. He could tell it was still night, judging by the moonlight illuminating the space around him, so not too much time could have passed. Turning his head, the tiny spark of hope that Dean had felt bloomed brighter as his eyes fell on a trenchcoat and the man wearing it. "Cas?" he coughed, still sounding hoarse, but despite everything, Dean couldn't help but smile in relief. _Cas is alive, and he came to get me. Again. _"I thought you were gone."

Castiel looked at him wearily. "So did I, for a moment," he replied, evidently exhausted from the flight. "But I just became trapped when the witch managed to break through one of the walls. I tried to find my way back to you, but it seems I was too late."

A look of guilt crossed over the angel's face, and it took Dean a second to work out why he should even feel guilty. It wasn't like Cas could have known what would happen to Sam, or even done anything to stop it. Wanting to reassure him, Dean put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Cas, if you hadn't shown up when you did I'd be roasted by now. What happened wasn't your fault, but if I'm still alive then at least we can do something about this."

Dean gingerly got to his feet and tried to pull Cas up with him, but it only made him realise how much every part of him hurt. Cas seemed to notice his pained grimace, and picking himself up, he reached out with his right hand to touch Dean's forehead. As his middle and index fingers lightly pressed into Dean's skin, Dean felt an instant relief, the stinging of the burns and the blows immediately easing. Grateful, he gave a slight nod of thanks, but as he saw the look on Cas's face it only further unsettled him.

"This may be even worse than you realise, Dean," Cas said sombrely. "Hell has imploded and its entire foundations have been shattered. Countless legions of demons have swarmed out, as well as a fresh wave of Croatoan virus, and there's no way to cram any of it back in. There must have been a design flaw in the structure of Hell, but that, it seems, was the consequence of permanently shutting the Gates. It's too late to fix this."

The full weight of those words was so heavy, Dean didn't think he could stand to even try and bear it. _It's all coming true, _he thought, remembering back to his experience four years ago. _What Zachariah showed me, and I thought I could change it… _Except that no, he wasn't going to think of that. Not right now. He could deal with this if he took it one step at a time, and there was only one priority that was forcing its way to the front of his mind. "Fine, then we can at least save Sam," he insisted with a sense of finality in his voice. "Find a way to get Lucifer out of him."

Cas gave him an apologetic look. "Dean, you can't…"

Dean didn't want to hear it. "If there's a way to exorcise demons, there's a way to exorcise angels." Now that he'd said it, he looked completely focussed, like that one goal was the only thing in the world he had to concentrate on or care about. Which it pretty much was.

"Dean, there _is no way _to exorcise an angel, even a fallen one," Cas said, wanting to be gentle even though he had to get it through to Dean, but Dean just rounded on him angrily.

"Then I'll find one!" he snapped. "I'm not giving up. The Men of Letters must know something about… expelling an angel from a vessel, or…revoking permission, or…dammit, _something._" He turned away from Cas, putting up his hands to clutch at his head, then wiping a hand over his face. Panicked frustration was emanating off him in waves.

Trying to comfort him, Cas placed a gentle hand on Dean's shoulder again, even though he knew he was about to deliver even more bad news. Dean turned to look at him, his eyes visibly moist again as they met each other's gaze. "The bunker's gone," Cas said as calmly as possible, "It completely caved in on itself. I saw it when we were flying over Lebanon. You can't get any further information from the Men of Letters archives."

As that sank in, Dean just looked at him helplessly. "Then what do I do? There's got to be something _somewhere_." It almost sounded like he was pleading with the universe to help him, and Cas just didn't have the answers he needed. The angel stared at the floor, feeling hopelessly inadequate that he couldn't help his friend.

Dean looked about them, as if searching for answers in their surroundings, but all he saw was an empty field stretching on into the distance. "Where even are we, Cas?" he asked after a couple of moments, sounding forlorn and defeated.

"Illinois," Cas answered flatly. "I tried to get us as far away as possible, but I doubt Lucifer will follow us. We're not a significant threat to him anymore." Illinois perhaps wasn't the furthest he could have gotten Dean, but Cas had found flying the both of them that far exhausting enough. He didn't, however, mention that.

Dean nodded, accepting that, and swallowed hard as he tried to come to terms with everything that had just happened. His brother was now possessed by the Devil. The only place he had ever really called home had just caved in on itself and collapsed into Hell, while Hell had imploded and spat out its demons to roam freely on Earth. And somewhere, there was a black haired witch who seemed to know something about it all. "Kal," he said quietly.

Cas gave him a puzzled look. "Dean?"

"Kal," he said again. "She knew closing the Gates of Hell would backfire. Even when the angels didn't think it would happen, she knew shutting the gates would crack the walls. So she must know something about how this all happened and how to stop it." He was thinking hard now, about how he and Sam had first tracked her down, believing they were just handling a regular witch case. It wasn't until much later they realised how psychotic she was, or how much she seemed to know about their dealings with Heaven and Hell, but if anyone had answers for him now, then it would be her.

"She's a witch, Dean," Cas pointed out, "And a mentally unstable one. She won't help you willingly, and trying to force her will be dangerous."

"Then have you got a better idea?" Dean challenged. It wasn't meant to sound as aggressive as it did, but his desperation caused it to come out rather harshly.

Cas looked pensive for a moment before he answered. "Maybe," he offered somewhat hesitantly, not wanting to give false hope but trying to think of something to help. "The angels may help us."

Dean shot him a sceptical look. "Really, Cas? The angels? After everything they've done, you wanna trust those dicks now?"

"They haven't all exactly been helpful to us in the past, Dean," Cas admitted, "but they are still warriors of God, and some of them still think that means something. If demons have overrun God's creation, then they have a duty to defend it. I may be able to rally some support among them. Even those who wanted the Apocalypse knew it wasn't meant to happen like this."

Dean wanted to believe it. He really did. He wanted to have faith that Heaven would send forth its armies to help them in their time of need, but he could feel nothing but bitter cynicism. They wouldn't come. He already knew that. He'd seen the future, and they all ran. The angels abandoned humanity, and Dean doubted that was something he could change. "Alright," he said, sighing defeatedly, "If you think that'll help, you go. Rally up support in Heaven, do whatever, but I _need _a way to save Sam, Cas. If I lose him now, then…" Whatever words he was going to say wouldn't come out. There were no words to adequately describe what this meant.

Taking the full meaning of the silence, Cas responded. "I understand, Dean," he said sincerely, "But the angels may be our best hope. I will, however, do anything you need me to do to help."

Dean nodded, grateful for his friend's declaration of solidarity. "What I need is to find Kal, and get some answers," he said, making his goals clear. This was the only plan he could think of right now that he thought had any chance of working. "So I can find a way to help Sam."

Cas didn't say anything to that, but instead reached up to touch Dean's shoulder again. Then, a moment later, they found themselves standing in the parking lot of a motel in the rain, with the field nowhere in sight. Dean was a little surprised by the suddenness of it, but he quickly figured out what Cas was expecting. "Cas…" he began, about to protest, but the angel spoke over him.

"If you need to do research, Dean, then by all means, but for now stay low. I will go to Heaven to try and find support, and I will try and find information for you about the witch, but there's no knowing what will happen in these first few days. Many of the demons that escaped Hell were sent there by you, and they'll be looking for revenge, so don't make it easy for them."

A little irritated by what he deemed Cas' overprotectiveness, Dean scowled. "I can handle a few demons, Cas."

"No you can't, Dean. Not like this," Cas replied, and his tone was so final Dean was almost inclined not to argue. "These aren't just a few rogue demons coming after you on their own anymore; these are whole armies united with a common interest. You make an enemy out of one of them, you make an enemy out of all of them, and you can't face up to them on your own. Please, just stay put until I return."

That, Dean realised, was Cas' way of saying goodbye before he flew off again, like he always did. "So you're leaving?" Dean commented bitterly, before giving the angel chance to actually do so.

Cas did at least look regretful, but he nodded. "I will return, Dean." He didn't actually stay to offer any more reassurance, but instead disappeared with a flutter of wings.

Dean stood staring at the place where the angel had been, trying to reason himself that Cas had gone and left again for a good reason. The angel was trying to help, he knew, but it didn't do much to make him feel better. The multitude of emotions he'd been trying to get a hold on were threatening to rise up and overwhelm him, and without Sam, he just didn't know how to keep them in check. Feeling completely lost, Dean stood alone beneath the neon light of the motel sign in the rain, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do now.


End file.
